Tails
by SMKLegacy
Summary: The coin lands tails up.


**Tails**

TEASER: The coin lands tails up.

DISCLAIMER: Even after the series finale, everything in this story except the plot belongs to DPB and the rest of TPTB. I doubt I'll ever have enough money to buy the 10 seasons on DVD, never mind make a serious offer for the rights.

ARCHIVE: At my own site and with my permission (see my profile for e-mail).

FEEDBACK: …makes me smile.

RATING: M

AUTHOR'S NOTE and SPOILERS: This is an alternate companion piece to "Heads". I just couldn't ignore my muse anymore. The entire canon could be at risk.

**JAG JAG JAG**

29 APRIL 2005  
McMURPHY'S TAVERN, FALLS CHURCH, VA  
0037 ZULU

Harm didn't realize he was holding his breath until the coin landed on the floor with a heavy "clank" and Bud bent over to see the results. This whole crazy notion of letting the toss of a coin decide the next fifty plus years of his life – he hoped for that long, anyway – had an edge of danger that appealed to the fighter jock in him. On the other side, the lawyer in him was screaming bloody murder and asking for whichever part of his anatomy had decided on this foolish scheme to start with.

Bud looked up at everyone with a big smile. "You know, I really think this calls for another round of drinks before the answer is revealed."

Harriet glared at him, much to Jen and Mac's amusement. Sturgis looked at Harm and shrugged, but it was hard to read General Creswell's face.

"On the other hand," Bud hurried on, "since this is the burning question of the night, perhaps I should just remove my foot from the coin and end the mystery." He lifted his foot and picked up the coin.

Before Bud could announce the results, however, Mac stirred in Harm's arms. "Harm, can the winner of the coin toss decide, rather than having the coin toss decide for us?"

Harm smiled into her hair. "Whatever you want, honey." Honestly, he didn't know for sure what he would do if it landed heads up; the notion of giving up his commission anyway had been playing at the back of his mind since he left Mac's just after 1500 and he wouldn't know his own mind until the moment came – if it came. He just couldn't see Mac's logical mind seeing his career as better for them as a couple than hers, long term, though. While his new command had more prestige for the short term, for long term options, she had far more support across command and political structures than he did. She was far more likely to achieve flag rank – and be the JAG – than he.

In that moment, his head and his gut and his heart all relaxed and the fighting between the aviator and the lawyer ceased. It really didn't matter who "won" the coin toss. They would both win far more just being together than either could possibly win by being the one to keep wearing the uniform.

It didn't mean that Bud's pronouncement of, "Tails, Colonel Mackenzie wins," didn't hurt for a moment.

"Well, congratulations, Colonel," General Creswell said, extending his hand to her. "I guess that means I need to tell you that the O-6 board report was finally released from the misconduct inquiry this afternoon with full clearance. As of last Friday, you're frocked as a bird colonel, Mac." Harm winced in reaction, which the general obviously saw. "And that means you still outrank him as long as he's in uniform."

"Ouch. Sorry, buddy." Sturgis clapped Harm's shoulder. "But you know she would pull rank regardless, so it might as well be official."

"Can I say something?" Mac's quiet voice brought everyone's attention to her. "As flattered as I am to have received this promotion to full colonel, and as humbled as I am to have had the opportunity to do something entirely new and different with personnel and resources, I have to make my priority my family, which means that Harm and I are going to London with Mattie."

Mac had done a lot of things over the years that stunned Harm, some brave, some selfless, some stupid, some all three. Saying yes to his proposal of marriage probably qualified as all three to some people. Giving up – sacrificing – her stellar military career when Fate gave that result to him went beyond brave and beyond selfless, but he wouldn't judge the stupidity or intelligence of it until he heard more of her rationale.

Harriet cocked her head and cleared her throat. "Uh, Mac, didn't you try to convince me that Bud would be in great hands at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego? Wouldn't Mattie benefit more there than in London?"

That was actually a very good point and an excellent question, one he hadn't actually considered all the way through.

Mac shifted in his arms so she could face Harriet as she answered. "Mattie took some initiative and with my help discovered that there are some excellent rehab facilities in the London area, the best of which seems to be the Royal Buckinghamshire Hospital in Aylesbury, about 35 miles northwest of London."

Leave it to Mattie to find out the answers to the important questions he hadn't even asked. And leave it to Mac to be on the same page, several chapters ahead of him. "Residential or out-patient?" The answer to that question would shed some light on Mac's decision, no doubt.

"Both."

Or not.

There had to be a logical flaw somewhere. Mac wasn't going to sacrifice for him what wasn't hers to sacrifice. She won the coin toss, he lost. His career ended then, not hers. "What about the costs? In San Diego, the costs would be covered by her status as a dependent. Overseas care is different."

Mac turned back to face him, putting her arms on his shoulders like she wanted him to stay seated. "No, dear, it's not. Where there is no American medical facility and military hospital of a host government equipped to handle the needs of a service member or dependents, the cost of care gets passed on and equalized against costs incurred in American institutions by military service personnel of foreign governments."

Harm would have sworn he saw General Creswell smile as though he had just achieved a hard won victory. Surely he wasn't enjoying the destruction of a fine military career?

Sturgis chuckled. "She's got you there, buddy. When Dad was serving as a religious exchange officer in Portugal, I broke my arm. Nary an American doctor in sight, but other than the language barrier, it was just like going to the doctor at the base hospitals."

"I, for one, applaud your decision, ma'am," Bud said, raising his beer to toast. "It takes great courage to let go of something so precious in order to have something even more precious."

"I'll drink to that," General Creswell said, raising his martini glass. "Or I would, if my glass weren't empty."

Harm threw back his head and laughed. Maybe this was what fate intended all along, that he had to be willing to let go, not that he would have to. "Joanna, another round, please."

The bartender nodded and set to work drawing the drafts of beer and mixing the drinks.

Realizing that he needed to be very clear for his own sake that he was still willing to abide by the terms of their agreement, Harm took Mac's hands in his and held them against his chest. "Mac, are you absolutely positive you want to do it this way? You have much more potential to be the next JAG than I would if you stayed in." He kissed her hands, right and then the left, paying special attention to her as-yet-unadorned ring finger, and forgot for a moment that they had an audience. "I will resign my commission on the spot if you want me to. We can be very happy and Mattie can get equally excellent care in San Diego."

She returned the affection, laying his left hand alongside her cheek after she'd kissed it. "I'm sure, Harm. We have a daughter who will have to learn to walk again and may never walk without some kind of aid, we want to have a family sooner rather than later, and since the sacrifice is required of one of us, it makes sense for me to be the one to let go of one part of life to embrace the next part fully."

Overwhelmed again by her total trust in the future and in the rightness of her decision, all he could do was pull her against his chest in a tight embrace and hope that no one would comment on the tears he could feel creeping down his cheeks. He had loved her in some form or fashion since the moment he realized she wasn't Diane, but never more than in that moment.

General Creswell reached across the bar to distribute the second round of drinks to the gathered friends. "Since our host seems to be otherwise occupied . . ." he said as he handed Sturgis his martini.

Sturgis grinned at Harm. "He does have his hands full, doesn't he, sir?"

Harm grinned back, feeling the salty trails break as his lips spread. "I'm not complaining, Sturgis."

"You'd better not, buddy. She's got you in a very vulnerable position."

Mac turned in his arms, wrapping them around her waist. "It's mutual and it's been like this since the day we met. But at least we both know it now."

General Creswell raised his eyebrows, but not, Harm realized, in surprise. "Well, here's to knowing it, claiming it, and making it work. And may you keep this lesson foremost in your mind: the more tightly you hold on to what you have, the harder it will be to attain what you really want."

"Cheers," the group said as glasses chinked all around.

The talk turned to the antics of the Roberts children, which Harriet and Bud told with great drama and enthusiasm. Little AJ had turned into Mama's Little Helper, or so he thought of himself, but from Harriet's descriptions, it seemed he was more of a hindrance than a help. Jimmy just followed his older brother around and tried to smother the twins with hugs and kisses whenever they were unguarded. The twins, now just over 4 months old, babbled to each other non-stop and liked to suck on each other's fingers, which Harriet worried about even though the pediatrician said it was fairly normal for now. The boys had been nicknamed "Wookie" and "Ewok" by Little AJ at Bud's encouragement and to Harriet's dismay. But at least, she acknowledged, even Jimmy could call the identical twins by the right god-awful nickname without nail polish, bracelets, or color coded clothes.

Apparently tired of being in the limelight, Harriet brought the conversation back to their reason for gathering in the first place. "So, now that you know where you're going, don't you think you ought to make it official, sir?" Her dimples showed in full force as she refused to apologize for the "sir".

He wanted to stick his tongue out at her as he might have at an obnoxious little sister, but in this company and in uniform, he decided not to. Instead, he rolled his eyes at her and shrugged as though he didn't know exactly what she meant.

"Wait, the engagement isn't official yet?" Jen asked, looking between him and Mac.

Sturgis pointed at Mac's left hand. "No ring."

Jen pursed her lips. "Uh, Captain Rabb, sir, I know the colonel is a patient woman, but don't you think she's waited long enough?"

Harm nudged Mac forward so he could stand up. "You know, I don't do so well under pressure with an audience."

That earned him a hearty laugh. In truth, since he already knew her answer, he didn't mind an audience this time. It would, he hoped, cement for Mac just how important she was and always would be to him. And it was why he had opted for mess dress rather than dress whites.

He maneuvered around her and settled her onto the bar stool, then reached into his pants pocket before he knelt down on the floor in front of her. He handed her a slip of paper and a small emerald velvet jeweler's box. "Read the receipt first." He had scratched out the total cost, but he wanted her to see when he had purchased the ring.

Mac raised her eyebrow at him but unfolded the yellow slip carefully, tilting it to get better light on the surface in the mood lighting of the bar. "November 14, 2001," she said. Her eyes widened.

"That's the day after the first JAGATHON, Mac!" Harriet's squeal brought attention to the group from other patrons of the bar; it suddenly Harm felt as though he had an audience of thousands instead of five.

"So it is," Mac whispered, looking into his eyes. Her deep chocolate eyes brimmed with tears.

"If I'd found the courage to give this to you when I first had it made, we could have saved ourselves almost four years of heartache and pain." He wiped an errant tear on her cheek with his thumb and fell a little more in love. "Open it so I can read the inscription to you, Mac."

"Never mind the inscription, sir. Open it so we can see the ring, ma'am," Jen begged.

That was such a typical Jennifer Coates thing to say that all anyone could do was laugh.

Harm watched Mac's face as she fumbled with the lid before it popped open to reveal the engagement ring he had designed to go with the wedding bands his grandmother had given him the first time he ever mentioned "his Marine" to her. Gram had known, even if he hadn't.

Mac stared at the three-stone ring. He had chosen a half-carat flawless ruby and an equally flawless half-carat sapphire, both square cut, to sit on either side of a 1-carat grade D FL Premium princess cut diamond in an 18-karat gold band. He wondered as he watched her if she understood the symbolism of his design.

Then her lips moved and he could just make out what she said without sound. "Navy, Marines, and Eternity." Tears streamed down her face. "Harm?"

He took the box from her and pulled the ring out, then set the box on the bar. He tilted the ring into the light and noted with satisfaction how the diamond sent a rainbow of light flashing around the room. Only a stone this beautiful could be worthy to rest on his wife's hand. He took a deep breath. "I'm Harmon Rabb. Marry me, Sarah Mackenzie?"

Mac threw her head back and laughed with such exuberance that he feared she would fall off the barstool. "Yes!"

He slipped the ring onto her finger before he stood and pulled her into his arms to kiss her the way she deserved to be kissed, which to him meant deeply for as long as they both could breathe. Desire coiled in his chest and the thrum of his blood rushing through his veins dulled the wolf-whistles of his friends as he started again what he knew this time he could accomplish: the seduction of Sarah Mackenzie.

Her body responded as his tongue weaved itself around hers. He felt her nipples harden through her dress and she pushed her pelvis against him, making him wish they were already at the hotel instead of bordering on a misdemeanor lewd and lascivious conduct charge.

She backed away first, probably, he realized, because she had just a little more control than he did, and promised more with her eyes before she looked at their friends.

"And he said he doesn't perform well under pressure with an audience," she quipped.

Amid the laughter that followed, goodbyes were said and promises made to keep in touch as the party came to an end. Eventually, Harm and Mac were left standing at the bar with an empty beer mug, a glass of flat soda with lemon, and an envelope addressed to Mac with the JAG insignia in the upper left corner.

"Who left that?" he asked her as she examined the envelope.

"I don't know, but I'd guess the general. I'll bet it's the official notice of my promotion."

"Most likely. Do you suppose they'll let you resign as a full colonel?"

She nodded. "I don't see why not. But it just dawned on me that I could go on reserve status to accrue retirement benefits eventually. The judiciary is a separate chain of command up to the JAG and God knows they could use a few more qualified judges."

Harm shrugged. "Honestly, I kind of expected you to get command of a Trial Judiciary Circuit after you proved so good on the bench last year."

"Nah. AJ filled them all before he retired, though he did offer the Trans-Atlantic circuit to me. I told him no on the spot and he didn't argue."

"He must not have been all that anxious to move you out, then." He got the tab from Joanna and took out his wallet to pay her. "He would have insisted that you think about it if he had."

"That's what I thought."

He waited for Joanna to give him his credit card and receipt while Mac figured a good tip and left it in cash.

She handed him a card key. "The penthouse suite. The balcony has an incredible view of the city overlooking the Tidal Basin with a clear view of all the memorials and monuments on the Mall." His astonishment must have shown on his face, because she smiled with a twist of her lips. "Fate. They overbooked and the only available suite was the top of the line."

"Lucky us."

"You bet." She took his head and pulled him down to give him another scorching kiss. "Hurry, Harm."

He didn't need to be told twice, though he had a call to make once he put Mac in her Corvette and saw that she made it safely out of the parking lot.

The nurse who answered the phone at the hospital in Blacksburg giggled when he identified himself to her. "Oh, Captain Rabb, Mattie has been asking every 10 minutes if you've called yet. Let me make sure she's ready to answer before I put you through to her phone."

He was very glad he'd thought to ask permission to call the floor this late, as he knew he wouldn't have been able to get through the switchboard. He hadn't been able to see Mattie since yesterday, but when he called her earlier to tell her that he had finally managed to mention marriage to Mac, Mattie demanded the details – and a call announcing to her where she would be living.

"Captain, hold on," the nurse said in his ear. "If you can imagine what someone who's nearly totally immobilized looks like bouncing out of bed, that's what she's doing."

He was still laughing at the visual when Mattie's voice screeched at him. "Well, Dad?"

_Dad?_

"Where are you and Mom taking me to live?"

_Mom?_

"Uh, London."

"Oh, wonderful. O'll start drinking me 'ot tea wi' cream 'n' sugah," she said in a decent Cockney accent.

He laughed with her for a moment, then remembered that he wanted to ask her about something. "When did Mac come visit?"

"After you left yesterday. I told the doctor about the move and he suggested that I do some research to get him some hospitals, and this morning after I gave him the list, he made some phone calls and made a recommendation."

"How did Mac know?"

She giggled and he realized the answer was obvious. "I called her. She insisted."

Harm pondered this for a moment. "Before or after I called you this afternoon?"

"Before. Did you give her the ring?"

"Yeah. She loved it."

"So you won the girl and the coin toss. Lucky man."

"Actually, Mattie, I lost the coin toss. But I think you're behind that, ultimately, because I don't think Mac would have let us go to London if she didn't know you could get excellent care there."

"Mom's giving up her commission of her own accord?" Mattie's voice rose again, her disbelief clear.

"Okay, what's with the 'Mom' and 'Dad' stuff all of a sudden?"

She was quiet for a full minute, but he could hear her sniffling over the phone before she answered him. "I know I'm kind of old, but I thought maybe if you're adopting me, Mac would, too."

His heart twisted in his chest at the longing in her voice. Then he remembered what Mac said when she told him why she was giving up her career. _"We have a daughter . . ."_

He pushed his next words through a throat tight with love and joy. "I don't think that will be a problem, Mattie. I love you."

"I love you, too . . . Dad. Go make Mom happy." Her too-knowing tone made him wish she were five instead of 15 as he promised to bring Mac to see her on Sunday and ended the call.

He made the drive to the Loews L'Enfant Hotel without remembering anything about it. His mind was too busy processing everything that had happened since Tuesday morning when General Creswell dropped the bombs that upended his life so thoroughly.

Harm actually hated Yorkshire pudding, having had to endure it several times as a teen on his yearly trips to Bermuda with his mother and Frank. His mother, when he called to tell her about the assignment, had laughed and assured him that Eliza Hamilton's Yorkshire pudding couldn't really pass even as a poor imitation of the real thing. "Give it some time, Harm. You'll like it in the end."

She was also excited at the prospect of seeing him more often, now that Mac would be stationed down the road. "And in between your visits, I can to get to know my future daughter-in-law." His mom had known, too, long before he did.

And wasn't it fascinating that General Creswell had assumed Harm was thinking about going to see Mac rather than Mac coming back to Washington when he made his comment about not making vacation plans? Just who had their current commanding officer been talking to that he seemed both to know about and be willing to turn a blind eye to the hitherto unrequited tension between them?

Which brought Harm back to the point at which Mike Roberts asked him of all people for advice about a relationship. While he knew his advice to the midshipman applied to the young man, as well, he couldn't help but feel like he was talking to himself more than Mike, working up the courage to face Mac. It took him two more days, but finally this afternoon, he had intended to go to Mac's apartment without a plan other than to finally say in words she couldn't possibly misinterpret what he had been trying to say without using that singular three word phrase for at least six years. When she showed up at his place, she beat him to the punch.

But he still accomplished his mission. "Let's get married," was most assuredly a phrase she couldn't misinterpret, especially after her leading line. In either London or San Diego.

London.

London with Mac.

London with Mac and Mattie.

Life, he decided, was just about as damned good as it could possibly be.

Then he remembered why he and Mac were sharing a suite this weekend, and decided life was going to get even better.

**JAG JAG JAG**

30 APRIL 2005  
LOEWS L'ENFANT HOTEL, WASHINGTON, DC  
0318 ZULU

Harm let himself into their suite with his suitcase in hand and saw Mac on the balcony, apparently oblivious to his presence, lost in the lights of the monuments along the Mall and the Tidal Basin. She made such a beautiful picture, silhouetted in the sepia light of a gibbous moon with just enough color to paint her a faded rose against the open railing. With her hair blowing in the gentle breeze and her bare feet planted on either side of a vertical support, she looked for all the world like a queen surveying her realm. He would give her the world if she asked, he knew. And he would resign tonight if she asked him to – or tomorrow, or Sunday, or any day after that.

He put his suitcase in the storage cabinet and took off his jacket, cummerbund, and tie with care, hanging them up beside her class A uniform in the closet. With a small smile of anticipation he couldn't hide, he kicked off his shoes and socks and rolled up his sleeves before he stole across the carpeted room to join Mac on the balcony.

She turned when he slid through the open door. "I figured half an hour, Sailor. You really did hurry. It's only been 17 minutes."

"Ten minutes too long," he admitted, crossing the balcony to envelop her in his arms.

Her eyes flashed with amusement and her lips twisted with an ironic grin. "Only ten?"

He almost couldn't answer her, so distracted was he by the way she made quick work of the buttons on his shirt with her fingers as her lips played at his throat. "I, um . . . I called Mattie for seven."

"What did she say?" she asked, and he felt it against his neck as much as heard it with his ears as her hands slid over his t-shirt along his chest, raising hairs in their wake.

"She called me 'Dad' and told me to make 'Mom' happy."

Mac stilled in his arms and looked up at him. He had thought perhaps the tears, however joyful, were over for the day, but moonlight glistened on her cheeks where teardrops left their trails. "She called you 'Dad'?"

He smiled down at her, into those chocolate pools he could drown in so easily. "She called you 'Mom'." He kissed her, a down payment on passion. "I bet you never thought you'd get an instant family when you fell in love with me."

"I wasn't entirely sure until you put this ring on my finger that I was going to get you when I fell in love with you."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

He took a deep breath and held his eyes steady, needing for her to hear his apology in full. "For my general stubbornness and stupidity, my jealousy, and my inability to let go until it was almost too late."

She kissed his chin. "Apology accepted. I forgive you. I'm sorry for all the hell I've put us through with my impatience and willful stupidity over the years. And especially for what happened in Paraguay after . . . after you let go to save me."

"Apology accepted. I forgive you." He nuzzled at her ear for a moment before he spoke into. "Isn't this the part in the movie where the hero and the heroine start over with a kiss?"

She giggled. "We did that when you proposed, Harm. I love you."

He realized with a jolt that he had never heard her say that before. He wondered if she felt like this earlier when he managed to string those three words in that order and say it to her – giddy, weak-kneed, and yet savage with desire. He found the zipper on her dress and worked it down as he began in earnest his quest to show her just how much he loved her.

Harm lost track of time as she responded to his caresses and kisses by tugging his t-shirt out of his pants so she could lay her hands on his bare chest, searing his skin as she massaged his muscles with feather light strokes. The skin of her back slipped under his fingers like silk, leading him under her dress to graze her nipples with his thumbs, a pleasure that had haunted his dreams for years.

She moaned and pulled him against her as she had at the bar, grinding into him as she slipped her hands to his shoulders and pushed his tux shirt down his arms to the cement. "Sorry," she murmured against his lips before she assaulted him, taking control of their movements as she pillaged his mouth. He sighed at the sensations and hooked his fingers under the straps of her dress, flicking them off her arms in one smooth motion.

Before her dress could fall off, he picked her up and carried her back into their room without closing the door behind them. She slid down his body to stand again, the friction arousing him more than he thought he could stand.

She lifted his t-shirt over his head as he slid her dress down her body, letting the silky material glide across her skin so he could watch the goosebumps rise in the cool air. Her lips on his chest made him shiver, and when she nipped at his pecs he lifted her enough to fall on the bed on top of her with a growl from deep in his chest that made her eyes widen in surprise.

"Three thousand thirty eight days," he said as he hovered over her, supporting his weight on his arms.

She grinned up at him. "Eleven hours, twenty two minutes, and nineteen seconds."

"That's got to be some kind of record for a man to keep his pants on."

"I think you'll have to wait another four minutes and two seconds to win the Guinness record on that one, Harm." She pointed down to his legs.

"To hell with the record."

"Thank God!" She leveraged him over with an easy self-defense move and straddled his stomach, facing his feet.

He took advantage of his view and easy access to explore her beautiful ass.

She shimmied her hips against his hands and laid her fingers under the button and slide of his trousers. "Anything I should know before I unleash-"

"If you say, 'the little sailor,' Sarah, one of us will be sleeping on the aaaahhh . . ." Mac's cool hands on his hips and legs sent a shock through his body even as the heavy poly-wool blend fabric of his dress trousers along with his black silk boxers slithered toward the end of the bed. For a moment, she lay spread-eagle along his length with her feet by his shoulders, and he was tempted to yank her up by her ankles to get to the last piece of clothing remaining between them and remove it so he could feast on all that she offered to him so willingly at long last.

Mac had other ideas. Without turning around, she worked her fingertips up his body, grazing his skin with those feathery touches. He squirmed under her and went to work on her legs, returning the favor inch by inch until she almost kicked him in the nose in strong reaction to him stroking the back of her right knee.

He held onto her right foot, licking at her ankle. Her hands stopped moving as she panted and moaned. That was a spot he would revisit a lot in the next half century. "You like that, Sarah?" He let go to see what she would do.

Her only answer was a muffled groan against his leg as she struggled to turn around to bring her face to face with him. In the process, she whipped her red lace panties off and threw them across the room.

"I was overdressed for the occasion."

"I thought that was the case, but I wasn't entirely sure about the etiquette of the situation."

She smacked his chest lightly before she lowered her lips to his for a kiss that curled his toes and straightened another part of his anatomy to attention from parade rest.

"Well, hello there," she teased when she backed away, leaving him panting this time. "This was worth waiting for."

"Was?" He couldn't help the expectant rise in his tone.

"Was." She kissed his nose before she explained in her very serious, closing argument voice. "Because I know now beyond a shadow of any doubt that when we make love for the first time, it will be for all the right reasons instead of because our hormones are momentarily in control of our bodies. We've put our demons to rest and said the words neither of us could ever say before. I love you and you know that now. You love me and I know that now. We won't have to wonder in the morning what tonight means because we know what it means. Eternity."

"Till death do us part."

"And only then for a little while."

He sighed and nestled her body along his full length, turning his head so he could look at her. "Dear God in Heaven, I love you, Sarah."

They didn't speak again with words, instead letting their bodies speak as long denied desires found fulfillment in the exploration of hands, tongues, and lips.

Harm reveled in the sounds Mac made as he found her center with his fingers and drew spasms of mewling pleasure from her. Later, he barely recognized her name in his own howl of animalistic fulfillment as the blood rushed to his loins and he emptied himself into her, riding waves of crashing passion longer than he believed possible.

With Mac sleeping lightly in his arms in the still, cool night, Harm realized something Bud had once told him that never really made sense until tonight. "When you make love with your soul mate for the first time, it changes you forever," Bud had said, and then gone on to give an example from Star Trek that washed over Harm without sinking in.

Harm never thought of his previous relationships as loveless – he had loved Annie and Renee, and been in love with Jordan – but after the levels of connection he experienced with Mac, whom he both loved and was in love with, he understood at least a little of what Bud meant. As precious as Mac had been to him before, now, unbelievably, she was doubly so. That astounded him, and he marveled at it as he drifted to sleep the way he had wanted to since the day he met her – naked with his arms around her.

**JAG JAG JAG**

30 APRIL 2005  
LOEWS L'ENFANT HOTEL, WASHINGTON, DC  
0903 ZULU

Harm woke up with his head in Mac's lap. She was stroking the hair on his head with one hand and the hair on his chest with the other, each scrape of her fingernails coming closer to a spot that she had discovered last night and that he had enjoyed immensely.

"Aw, I wanted to see what happens when I do this to you while you're asleep," she whined. She twirled her nails on the spot just under his left nipple and he felt himself rise at her touch.

"Probably the same thing."

"Yeah. Hey, are you at all curious about that letter?"

"What letter?"

She grinned at him. "Interesting facts about Harm file number 739: sex fries his short-term memory. Consequence: sex must be relatively infrequent to prevent permanent damage and early on-set of dementia."

He rose up and flipped her down to the bed. "You mean the letter with the JAG insignia that was on the bar between Bud's empty beer mug and your soda with a twist glass that had only water and the twist left?"

"Yeah, that would be the one."

"Take back what you said about the frequency of sex and I might get it out of your purse so you can read it. The suspense is killing me almost as much as the thought of not having as much sex as possible with you in the rest of my natural life."

She laughed, her waterfall of giggles leaving him aroused enough to wish he hadn't volunteered to get the letter for her. "I take it back. Besides, I'm not into self-denial." She grinned. "At least not now that I know what I'd be missing."

It took every ounce of will power Harm possessed not to kiss her just then. Instead, he pushed himself up off the bed and padded to the dressing table, where her red handbag sat with the envelope sticking straight up out of it.

Mac had returned to her former position, so when he crawled back into bed, he planted his head in her lap again and handed her the envelope, which she opened as she did every piece of mail: neatly with her nail.

"There are two letters here, one on General Creswell's JAG stationery and the other on AJ's personal letterhead," she told him, showing him the sheets after she unfolded them.

"That's interesting."

"Isn't it. I should probably read the general's first. Here goes. 'Dear Colonel Mackenzie,' he put 'and Captain Rabb' in parentheses, by the way."

"How did he know I'd be here?"

She rolled her eyes at him, which looked very strange upside down, and kept reading. "'When you read the enclosed letter from Admiral Chegwidden, you will understand how I came to be prescient enough to know this letter would be required. There is no need for you to resign your commission to be with Harm in London. The Defense Attaché to the Court of St. James, an Air Force colonel, is retiring as of 31 August. He requested a Marine be assigned in his place to help correct several incorrect impressions about American Marines among certain influential political circles, chief among them that Marines are incapable of civilized behavior. Your name is at the top of the list of candidates – so high, in fact, that the SecNav may even have yanked you out of JAG had you gone to San Diego; when he hears of this turn of events, he may not allow you to resign your commission anyway, claiming essential unique skills to keep you in. Not, I expect, that you would object if you could have Harm and your stellar career, too. You will need to start the Joint Military Attaché School (JMAS) program here in DC on Monday to be ready to transition into this position beginning 1 August. Call me as soon as you've made a decision or I'll be calling you at 1800 on Saturday.'"

"Whoa, Sarah, that's . . . my God, Defense Attaché to Great Britain? Talk about starting at the top." The opportunity flabbergasted him. This position could be a stepping stone to anything at flag rank she wanted, up to and including the Commandant of the Marine Corps, NATO Commander in Chief, or Chairman (Chairwoman?)(!) of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. High profile, theater joint command status, and tailor made for her skills and abilities as a litigator, linguist, and investigator, the DA slot screamed her name. "This is a no brainer in my book."

She dropped her arms to the bed on either side of his head. "But what about Mattie and any children we may have or adopt? This wouldn't be a 9-5 job, Harm."

He smiled up at her and was surprised to see how worried she was. "Sarah, honey . . ." He sighed, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words without giving her a lot to misunderstand. "Hear me out before you try to figure out what I'm saying, because I'm not sure I'll get it right the first time. You don't have to be either a Marine or a mother. You can be both and be both in a way that will make me proud and make you happy. That you are willing to give up your active Marine career to be the mother of my children makes my heart swell with so much love it may burst in my chest, but you and I are enough alike for me to know that there would always be that tiny part that wanted to still be a Marine. This is a chance to have it all and to do amazing, world changing things with everything you touch." He took a deep breath and was relieved to see that some of her worry had dissipated at his words. He hoped it meant that he was making sense.

"And can you imagine the reaction of some crazed, woman-denigrating despot when he realizes that the American Marines who are deposing and arresting him for crimes against humanity are commanded by a woman? The prospect of being married to the Commandant of the Marine Corps alone makes this irresistible to me."

She cracked a smile and he felt her relax under him. "You really think I should do this?"

"Do you want to?"

"Yeah."

"Good, 'cause I didn't like the visual of me dragging you caveman style to General Creswell's house to tell him yes when you wouldn't say yes on the phone."

"You're impossible."

"You love me anyway. Read Chegwidden's letter."

"You want to hear the rest of Creswell's?" He nodded and she went on. "'On a personal note, Mac, I cannot tell you how happy I am for you. You have lived up to everything I saw in you when you were a young officer on Okinawa and then some. I have read your files, and just what hasn't been classified "Eyes Only" by the CIA is enough to convince me that you've endured more than your share of scares and suffering. You deserve this chance at happiness, and contrary to what some people will tell you, and perhaps what you think of yourself, you also deserve the chance to have it all. Tell the captain that he had better not screw this up or he will have two very angry flag officers riding his ass unmercifully for the rest of his life. It may not be fair, but AJ and I decided we'd be easier on you if you screw it up just because we both have daughters and thus have a natural tendency to be more pissed at the men they date than at them, even when their misery is their own fault. Regards and warmest wishes, Gordon Creswell."

"I guess I know where I stand. Not only is my boss a Marine general, he's also made my future wife his surrogate daughter."

"Serves you right. Want to hear what AJ has to say?"

"Absolutely."

"It's written to the general about a month after he took over JAG. 'Dear Gordon, I figured that by now you would have gotten through the personnel files for your staff; wondered if half of it is even possible, let alone true; cut through as much of the black tape the CIA will acknowledge with regard to the activities of Turner, Roberts, Mackenzie, and Rabb; and discovered that wherever Mackenzie goes, Rabb goes and vice versa.'"

Harm smiled up at her. "Are we really that bad?"

Mac's bangs moved when she huffed out a breath. "Hmm, let's see. I followed you to Russia twice, you came after me to the _Guadalcanal_ and to Paraguay, and you argued for us to be assigned to the same cases on such a regular basis that Sturgis actually told you to shut the hell up in a staff meeting once before the general took over."

"I guess we are that bad. No wonder no one seemed all that surprised last night."

"Denial never was bliss. AJ wrote more. 'You can see by my notes that I opted not to make major personnel changes in the spring even though many were overdue. The SecNav agreed to a one year delay in implementation, with the caveat that the assignments as outlined are to be presented to the staff first. We are both sure that the proposed separation of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid will result in the inevitable if almost too late realization that they are and have been ass over teakettle in love with each other for a very long time. Undersecretary of Defense George Herman will be delighted to receive your call anytime day or night; he's been asking for Mac to join the Defense Attaché program for years. If there's a snafu, just give me a call. Regards, AJ."

"How the hell did the admiral know about Butch and Sundance? I didn't tell him."

"Neither did I. Given our history, he's probably been calling us that a lot longer than we've been calling ourselves Butch and Sundance, though. Do you feel like we were set up?"

He took the letters from her hands and laid them on the bed, then grasped her hands. "A little, I suppose, but I'm glad for it."

"Me, too."

And then they proved it for another 24 hours, stopping only for food, a very little sleep, and one very important phone call.

**JAG JAG JAG**

30 JULY 2005  
UNITED STATES NAVAL ACADEMY CHAPEL COMPLEX, ANNAPOLIS, MD  
1345 ZULU

Harm had never given much thought to the time of day at which he wanted to get married, but when his children asked his advice in the future, he would definitely advise them that 10 AM was too early except under extenuating circumstances. Which, he had to admit as he adjusted his dress white coat in the mirror, these were.

Mac, with invaluable assistance from Harriet, his mother, Chloe, Mattie, and AJ Chegwidden, had thrown a wedding together in 11 weeks while going through an accelerated command program at JMAS.

The Academy wedding coordinator had balked at first at scheduling yet another wedding for today – there were ceremonies at 1130, 1300, 1430, 1600, and 1730, as well – especially one so early in the day. AJ reminded her gently that the surrogate father of the bride (and, by the way, see this SEAL trident lapel pin?) and the groom were both Annapolis graduates, that the bride and the groom were both on flag track, and that the guest list included at least four current flag officers as well as a half dozen or more retired flag officers. They got the chapel without another word and all the cooperation anyone could possibly want.

Harriet and Bud had offered to host the reception at their house, but a series of unfortunate circumstances and the opportunity to make things a little better led them to the Friendship Harbor Yacht Club instead. The arrest of a young JAG officer outside of New Orleans, followed by an improper, violent interrogation that left him severely brain damaged, devastated two families and obligated them to pay for a wedding that would no longer happen. Mac had smelled a rat in the initial arrest, so the opportunity to help these two families by reimbursing their deposits and taking over the contractual obligations for the venue, the caterer, and the DJ appealed to her sense of fairness, more so when last week the local sheriff's office admitted that the young man had been the victim of a horrible case of mistaken identity. Harm's mother and Harriet had become best of friends in their quest to make the resulting reception as extravagant as possible.

Bud and Little AJ came back from the bathroom just then.

"Uncle Harm, how come tuxedos is so uncomferbal?" Little AJ tugged at the white tie around his neck with his pudgy fingers and made faces at himself in the mirror beside Harm.

Harm knelt down to help him loosen the tie a bit. "Because they were designed by a woman, AJ."

"Mommy says bras are uncomferbal 'cause a man drawed . . . um, drew them."

Behind AJ, Bud turned red trying not to laugh. Harm chuckled and patted AJ's tie into place. "You know, buddy, your mommy is a very smart woman. But you shouldn't say what she said to anyone else, except maybe Aunt Mac, okay?"

"'Kay. Daddy put me in charge to make you wear your sword. He says you're nervous 'cause you and Aunt Mac are getting tied together."

Bud spoke before Harm could even ask. "He heard Dad say you were getting hitched. We finally convinced him you weren't getting tied to a post like a horse, but the idea of tying seems to have stuck."

"He's not far off, you know." Harm restrained the impulse to ruffle Little AJ's hair, knowing that if he did so, Harriet would be unhappy.

The door opened and Chloe pushed Mattie Grace into the room, handling the tall, orthopaedic wheel chair as though she'd been doing so for years. Harriet followed them in with Jimmy in her arms and AJ Chegwidden trailing behind.

"What, no Mac?" Harm quipped, knowing the flack he would get about the groom not seeing the bride on the day of the wedding.

"She said to tell you she'd meet you in the Bahamas," Mattie said. She smoothed the royal blue silk of her dress around her braced legs.

Chloe stroked her chin. "Or was it Bimini?"

"I could have sworn she said Barbados." Harriet handed Jimmy to Bud and twirled in the mirror for Little AJ.

Harm swallowed, unnerved by their straight faces. "It's Bermuda – and she is here, right?"

AJ Chegwidden raised his arms in surrender. "Okay, okay, you girls win. We'll go to a Nationals game this coming week."

Harm narrowed his eyes at the two teens, who had become best of friends over the summer while they did all the computer design work for the invitations, program, menus, and place cards. "Matilda Grace? Chloe Anne?"

"It wasn't their idea, Harm," AJ the elder admitted. "I said I bet you were so calm that nothing could rattle your cage. The girls begged to differ and bet me first base line tickets to the Nationals versus a day of housework this week that they could get you to ask if Mac was here."

"Sorry, sir."

"Eh, no harm, no foul. I'm stopping there because there are just way too many things that could be said about that. Anyway, I wanted to tell you how happy I am for you and Mac and to reiterate that I do know how to buy Transatlantic plane tickets at the drop of a hat if . . ."

Harm smiled and stretched out his hand. "Absolutely, sir. Thanks for everything, AJ."

"You're welcome, Harm. AJ, you want to come see Aunt Mac?"

Harm saw the look Harriet sent the older of the ring bearers. "Me and Jimmy will stay with Mommy. You can go see her by yourself. Unless you're scared to."

That got a good laugh out of the adults and teens before the admiral cocked his head at his namesake. "You know, I think I'm brave enough to go see her for a few minutes alone, but don't take too long."

Little AJ popped to attention and saluted. "Aye, sir!"

"Okay. Gentlemen, if you'll hand me your covers, I will drop them at the back door on my way by."

"He looks so much happier now that he's retired," Chloe observed after the door closed behind AJ. "And a lot younger."

"He's nicer, too." Mattie had grown fond of AJ since he volunteered to let Mac live at his house, more so since he added a wheelchair ramp and did some inside renovation work to make it easier for Mattie herself to maneuver around the house when she started coming home from her in-patient rehab a couple of nights a week.

"Mommy, Jimmy's crawling on the floor!" Little AJ pointed at his little brother's behind, which was quickly disappearing behind a sofa.

"I'll get him, honey," Bud said. It proved harder than Harm expected when poor Jimmy got his foot caught on a middle leg of the long couch. Bud couldn't reach him over the high back, so with Harm's help, he shifted the couch out and rescued his son, whose little white tux looked more gray than white now.

Mattie had the solution – a lint roller, which Jimmy found amusing as Harriet used sheet after sheet of tape to dust him off.

While they cleaned up Jimmy's suit, Little AJ helped Harm and Bud put on their gloves and swords.

"I'm too little for a sword now. Someday, I'll get a uniform and a sword just like you."

The door opened again. Sturgis and Jack Keeter followed Chaplain Turner into the room, at which point Harriet collected the ring bearers and herded them and the bridesmaids out with an exchange of kisses and hugs all around. Harm would have said under oath that Harriet was already crying, although Chloe and Mattie got the giggles and were still laughing as Chloe pulled the door closed behind her.

"Is Mattie going to stand during the ceremony?" Sturgis had taken an interest in Mattie's progress when she proved to be a huge fan of his girlfriend, Varese, and had been delighted to be paired with her after his surprise at being asked to be in the wedding.

Harm shook his head. "She wants a dance with me, then one with you and one with AJ if she has the energy. She and Chloe were apparently up all night working on something to decorate the chair with."

"She really wants to dance with me?"

"She likes you and Varese gave her permission."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "What about me?"

Harm shrugged. "Chloe seems to think it's fun to taunt Mac with the prospect of going after you the minute she turns 18. Just remember, she is only 15 now."

"Mac made abundantly clear what parts of my anatomy would be at risk if I forget even for a nanosecond that Chloe is much younger than she looks. Mac also told me who I'm allowed to look at after the obligatory wedding party dances." Jack smiled. "I just can't believe that of the three of us, you're the one getting married first."

"You haven't lived it for four years like I have. It's been hell." Sturgis examined himself in the mirror, then reached down to wipe a smudge from his white shoes.

Jack snorted and slapped Sturgis on the back. "Hell? It was hell keeping Mac safe knowing that if I so much as breathed wrong around her, Harm would take my head off. That, thank you, was seven years ago."

Harm looked at Bud, who just shrugged, and at Chaplain Turner, whose smile never faltered. Harm started to say something, but Sturgis cut him off.

"Yes, but I got them both to admit to me that they loved each other, so I knew eventually lightning would strike and they would get it together."

"You what?" Harm knew he had told Sturgis many things, but he didn't confess his love . . . oh, wait, yes, he did, one night while Mac was missing in Paraguay before he went after her, when Sturgis beat him soundly at one-on-one and then got him drunk enough to talk.

Sturgis just smiled, looking then very much like his father.

"You dog. I never had a chance with Mac, did I?"

"Sorry, Jack. Harm had her in the Rose Garden the moment he woke from his stupor, stuck out his hand belatedly, and admitted that his name is 'Harm'. She had him way back at 'Mac', but he's too stubborn to admit that."

"To you, maybe, but it's amazing what a man in love will tell the man in whose hands the legal documentation for his marriage rests." Chaplain Turner's droll voice startled Harm, and from the looks on Jack's and Sturgis' faces, them, too. "It's 0954, gentlemen. Let's say a prayer before you two go out to seat Trish, shall we?"

Harm bowed his head and concentrated on the words of the prayer over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"Eternal Father, strong to save, we come together today to ask your blessing upon this holy joining of your children, Harm and Sarah. You have walked with them on their difficult journey to this day and we pray that you will continue to walk with them as the begin their lives together as husband and wife and as parents to Matilda Grace. Bless them richly with your love as you teach them to listen, to speak, and to apologize, and to forgive with grace and humor. These things we ask in Jesus' name, amen."

And that, Harm thought as he accepted the silent supportive embraces men exchange when they want to show they care without getting mushy, summarized in 30 seconds the 10 weeks of conference call pre-marital counseling Chaplain Turner had insisted upon before he would perform their ceremony.

Jack and Sturgis left the room and Chaplain Turner excused himself for one last bathroom visit before he put his open preaching robe on, leaving Harm alone with Bud.

"This is a stupid question, but do you ever wonder what your life would be like without Harriet and the boys?"

"Yes, every once and a while." Bud sighed and shifted his leg, rubbing at his knee. Harm couldn't keep his concern from showing and Bud interrupted himself to say, "I forget that crawling on the floor puts pressure on a weird numb spot in my knee. It just tingles, sir. Anyway, my life without Harriet and the boys would be empty. Heck, sir, I might not have found the will to live through Afghanistan if I hadn't had them." He looked down at the carpet. "I know I wouldn't have lived through it."

"I was thinking about what my life would have been like without Mac all these years."

"You'd be dead about five times over that I can think of, sir."

"I could have married Renee." The thought made him shudder.

"No, sir, you'd never have had the chance to meet Ms. Peterson. Colonel Mackenzie wouldn't have been there to save your six in Russia either time, she wouldn't have gotten you off for the murder of that KGB agent, you'd have gotten life or maybe even death for killing Commander Hobarth, or you'd have died on the _Watertown_. Beyond that, you'd have died because no one on our side would have known about the faulty Russian torpedoes, we would have lost you in the Atlantic because the Colonel wouldn't have been around to use her ESP to find you, we'd all be convicted criminals for the bar fight at my bachelor party, and, well, sir, that landmine might actually have done more than blow off your leg if Colonel Mackenzie hadn't been around to pull an Indiana Jones on it."

Harm laughed. "Thanks, Bud. I think I needed to be reminded one last time."

"You love her, Harm. You didn't really need reminding, just distraction."

"And that, my friend, is why you're the only person I could think of having beside me as my best man. You've got the rings, right?"

"No, sir." Bud grinned and Harm could only imagine what look of terror had crossed his face to bring a smile that wide. "Harriet tied them to the pillows for the boys, remember? Mattie had them in her saddlebag along with the mysterious decorations for the wheelchair."

Harm sagged with relief as Chaplain Turner came back, and suddenly it was time.

The longest eternity of Harm's life so far occurred as he waited for Mac to appear at the back of the church on AJ's arm. Even so, that eternity had rewards. Watching Mattie wheel herself down the aisle with Jimmy snuggled in her lap and Chloe step with great concentration to the slow march tempo of the "Air" from Handel's _Water Music_ swelled him with pride. Harriet radiated contentment as she made her way to the front, and he hoped that Mac would have that same air of centeredness someday soon.

The "Air" came to an end. Around him, the men and women he and Mac had chosen to stand with them shifted in anticipation during the pregnant silence, but he held himself still for fear of his body taking off down the aisle without his conscious permission.

Jeremiah Clarke's _Trumpet Voluntary_ began. The congregation stood. AJ appeared first at the back of the church, then Mac appeared beside him on his arm. With her translucent lace veil over her face, she looked ethereal, a ghost walking toward him from another time. He could see her eyes darting around the church, taking in the scenes, and then her eyes met his and held. He thought perhaps she marched a little faster after that, but he knew it was just a trick of his imagination.

He hadn't been able to explain why he had always envisioned lifting the veil over his bride's face at his wedding when the subject came up with Chaplain Turner. Back in the days when veils were still popular, the father of the bride had been the one to lift the veil, so it wasn't like Harm was standing on tradition. But Mac had understood the longing in his voice and given in to his whim with joy. Some in the congregation would complain that their little ceremony smacked of ownership, but it meant the world to them because it was uniquely their own.

AJ brought Mac to the bottom of the stairs where Harm waited. Harm stepped forward and lifted Mac's veil with his gloved hands. The love he saw reflected there robbed him of his breath for a long moment as they stared at each other, and he wondered if her thought was the same as his – AT LAST!

He finally nodded at AJ and removed his gloves, handing them off to Bud beside him. He turned back to shake hands with AJ before the other man kissed Mac's cheek, then placed her right hand in Harm's left and stepped back, executing a flawless "about face" to take his seat beside General and Mrs. Creswell.

With Mac on his arm, Harm ascended the steps to the top level as the bridal party spread out along the stairs with Sturgis and Mattie anchoring the lines on the floor level. Harm knew it would make a stunning picture from the balcony, for which he was grateful because he really didn't want to take his eyes off his beautiful bride just now.

The first part of the service went by in a blur, though he tried to pay attention to the Scripture readings.

He heard Tom Boone read the familiar yet updated words from the Gospel of John that meant so much to their relationship: "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends." How many times had she put her life on the line for him? He for her? He was sure, although he couldn't prove it, that she had actually died for him on the _Watertown_. He did know that those moments in which she wasn't breathing were the longest in his life.

He and Mac had chosen the traditional passage from I Corinthians 13 because it embodied what they had been through and what they would have to work at every day of their married lives; he made sure to listen carefully as Jen read: "Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends."

Chaplain Turner's homily didn't even go in one ear; the next thing he knew, he was being asked to affirm that he would love Sarah Mackenzie and be faithful to her as long as they both shall live. A moment later, Mac affirmed her intentions, then their family – defined by them as their wedding party and his parents – shouted their support with enough volume to make Chaplain Turner laugh before he asked the rest of those gathered to pledge their support. Harm thought he heard General Creswell's voice booming over everyone else's; his suspicion turned to certainty when Mac's broad grin faltered as she tried to keep a giggle from erupting. She did, but barely.

Harriet took Mac's bouquet of white roses so that he could take both of her hands for the exchange of vows.

Chaplain Turner said, "Unite yourselves in marriage now and be subject to each other, in reverence to Jesus Christ." This was the most important moment in the whole service.

Mac took a deep breath and squeezed his hands, looking into his eyes the entire time as she said in a steady, gentle tone, "I, Sarah Mackenzie, take thee, Harmon Rabb, Jr., to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith to you."

Harm cleared his throat of the lump that had formed as she spoke. He pulled her hands up and held them over his heart as he spoke in a voice shaking with emotion. "I, Harmon Rabb, Jr., take thee, Sarah Mackenzie, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith to you."

Chaplain Turner blessed the rings which had marked the marriage of another Sarah to another Harmon 65 years ago, when Sarah Somerset married Daniel Harmon Rabb. Harm looked at his grandmother with a smile before he looked back at his own Sarah and slid the simple gold band on her finger. His Sarah did the same, and he swore that something tangible passed between the two women in that moment before his grandfather's ring settled into place on his finger as if it had always been there.

They didn't need words to know to turn to Grandma Sarah together, holding their left hands out to her. Mac blew her a kiss before they turned back to face Chaplain Turner for the last part of the service.

"To all of you who are witnesses here today, I say to you, those whom God has joined together let no one separate. Mac and Harm, you have made a commitment to each other in this joyous sacred covenant. Love and serve God together as you become one. Be merciful to each other; let your words be kind and humble and your love be patient and forgiving. Be thankful to God for the blessings in your lives. May you know the depth of your love for each other each and every day of your lives, and may that love reflect your understanding of the love with which you are held in God's heart for all time.

By the power vested in me by the State of Maryland, I now declare that you are husband and wife. I present Colonel and Captain Mackenzie Rabb. Captain Mackenzie Rabb, if she gives you permission, you may now kiss the Colonel!"

Mac's eyebrow went up as Harm bent to kiss her. He stopped in mid-motion, reading her improvisational intent, and grinned at her. She nodded the tiniest bit.

He straightened to ramrod attention, even dropping her hands for the full effect. "Ma'am, permission to kiss the Colonel, Ma'am!" he called in his best plebe voice.

He would have worried at the time it took for her to answer had he not seen the effort she went through to control her laughter before she responded in a Parris Island-worthy way. "What is your first General Order, Sailor?"

"Ma'am?" He thought fast as she pressed her lips together in another attempt not to laugh. "Ma'am, my first General Order is to take charge of kissing the Colonel whenever she is in view and not in uniform, Ma'am!"

The congregation was still laughing when they crashed together in a blistering, breath stealing kiss he thought would have carried an MA rating on television. He realized that she had no intention of ending the kiss soon and gave in to his impulse to lift her into his arms. The wolf whistles started then and continued for at least two minutes as he followed his General Order in letter and spirit.

Jack and Sturgis broke the intensity of the moment when they shouted together, "PDA! PDA!"

Harm still kissed Mac three more times before they turned together to face their family and friends. The organist started Henry Purcell's _Trumpet Tune_ and he stepped off down the stairs with his wife on his arm.

His wife!

They went into the bride's parlor for a few minutes, long enough for their honor guard to assemble and for the limo to be waiting at the end of the walk.

He knew he probably should have said something, but all he could think of was kissing her again. Mac didn't object, instead wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and sliding her satin covered thigh between his legs.

"Mac, honey, welcome to the family!" His mother's voice startled him, but he had the presence of mind to keep Mac in his arms to hide the evidence of desire from Trish's all-too-observant eyes.

"Thank you, Trish." Mac moved.

Harm turned his body as his wife crossed the distance to the doorway and gave his mother a hug. Beside his mother, Frank winked at Harm and he knew that his stepfather understood his dilemma.

"I'm so happy for you both," Frank said, taking Mac in his arms as Trish let her go and stepped toward Harm.

Harm closed his eyes and thought of his trip to Iceland a few years ago in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort as his mother wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, Mom."

"Not as much as you love her." Her voice shook with what he knew was suppressed laughter.

"Differently than I love Mac."

She flicked her eyes down. "I should hope so."

"Mom!"

"Honey, you're 42 years old. You don't need to be embarrassed . . ."

"I can't believe I'm having this . . ." Mac's laughter from across the room caught his attention. "Wait, did you plan this?"

"Who, us?" the two women asked in innocent unison.

Frank laughed and shrugged at Harm. "I warned you when you invited us to come help Mac out that you were setting yourself up for feminine conniving."

"Yeah, you did. And I wouldn't really have it any other way. Are they ready for us?"

"Let me check." Frank stepped into the hallway, then came back to claim Trish. "Let us get outside, then they're all set." He shook Harm's hand, kissed Mac one more time, and then they were gone.

Mac flashed him a saucy smile. "That's a down payment on later. Did you talk to Vukovic?"

He took her arm and tucked her hand by his side. "I did one better than that. I asked our three flag officers to handle Gregory the Incorrigible."

"So his sword will remain over our heads at all times?"

"Yes." Harm grimaced. "At least, that was what I requested of the general and the admirals."

"Only one way to know. Ready, Captain?"

"Absolutely, Colonel."

Harm counted seven swats with swords as he and Mac dashed through the arch, only one of them more painful than a slight sting. That, he knew, was Bud's payback for the honor guard seven years ago at his wedding to Harriet.

He and Mac fell into the limo, laughing and breathing hard as the cheering and whistling continued.

A chant started as the honor guard was dismissed. "Kiss your wife! Kiss your wife!"

So he did, and as they were kissing this time, it sank in: they were married.

Despite crazed terrorists of every ilk, delusional murderers, the CIA and holdouts from the KGB, other men, other women, misunderstandings, and their own damnable intransigence, he, Harmon Rabb, Jr., was married to her, Sarah Mackenzie.

He'd never been so glad to lose a coin toss in his life.

**--Fin--**


End file.
